Dark Secrets
by Transformersfan123
Summary: The Autobots are Sam's only friends in the world, but he can't completely trust them. He doesn't trust anybody because of a dark secret he's been hiding... It's got a different storyline from the movies but the same characters. T for violence and language
1. Past Pains

Okay. This has nothing to do with my 'Side Effects' storyline. Just something that popped into my head and I had to get it down. It's a bit darker than any of my other stories, except for maybe my Trick 'R Treat one, but...yeah. Just to clear this up right away, Sam wasemotionally and physically abused, but not sexually. I just can't do rape scenes...I hate seeing the character being hurt like that. Yet, I'm going to have to do one for my other story anyway...Oh well. Please enjoy and tell me what you think. I'm a bit unsure about this one.

* * *

Sam hurried away from his house, his heart pounding wildly. The bruise on his cheek was already starting to throb painfully. He'd had to get away from his parents, even if he'd be in big trouble later. For his entire life, Sam had kept a dark secret from everybody around him: his parents abused him. The teen was punished for things other people considered small and meaningless. Once, his father had beaten him until he bled for not doing the dishes. He'd been six years old. At school, he was a social outcast. Nobody wanted to hang out with the quiet, withdrawn boy that never spoke and wore make-up; Sam had gotten rather talented at covering up what his parents had done to him over the years. The boy hadn't had a friend in the world until a year ago.

The boy had worked and worked to earn enough money to buy a car. To him, a car would be a way to get away from the hell that he called home. After months of working, he'd finally made enough to get a used car, and as soon as he could, headed to the nearest car lot. A yellow and black 1969 Camaro had caught his eye right away, and, after bargaining with the dealer for a couple hours, he bought it. Sam was very pleased with his purchase; the car, though old-looking, ran like a dream. The only strange thing was the radio, which would switch randomly, or so it seemed, between stations. Later, when Sam thought about it, the type of song that played was had some sort of connection to his mood.

After a week of owning the car, Sam received the surprise that would completely change his life when a police car started following him down the road one evening. His car took control and started driving itself, and a wild chase ensued. The chase ended when the boy's 'car' transformed into a giant mechanical being. Sam watched the following fight between the two giant robots, fear and fascination keeping him rooted to the spot. The yellow robot that had been his car won and turned, starting to walk over to Sam. When the blue optics fell on him, the fear of being hurt, which was deeply ingrained inside of him thanks to his parents, overcame him, and Sam ran away as fast as he could. The next few days had been spent hiding from his car, feigning illness to get out of school.

One evening, his car was gone from the driveway, and Sam, desperate to get out of the house, dared to go outside. He walked down towards the forest at the edge of the city, figuring his car would stick to roads, and slipped through the trees like a shadow. In the years he'd lived, he'd learned how to disappear and sink into shadows. That particular skill had saved him many a beating. Before long, he came to a natural clearing. It was one of the places that he would go to for peace and quiet. He settled against a tree and quickly fell asleep, the stress from the past week taking a heavy toll on his already aching body. He woke up a couple hours later by soft, unfamiliar voices with a smooth metallic undertone.

"Are you sure this human is the right one?" a gruff voice asked.

There was a broken whistle before another voice spoke. "Bumblebee wouldn't have called us here if he wasn't sure." The voice was deep and full of authority. The thing that made Sam open his eyes to see who had spoken, however, was the comfort and safety the voice promised.

His change in heart rate gave him away; his pulse sped up as he stared up at the five giant robots around him. They all looked down at him with bright blue optics, and the greenish one closest to him knelt down in front of him, staring at him curiously. As the mech reached for him, Sam was filled with fear and tried to bolt into the thick protection of the forest. He was grabbed up before he could make it, and found himself in a large metal hand. He actually yelped in fear as the group of robots stared at him. The yellow and black one that had been his car made a static noise and grabbed the green one's wrist, looking angry.

"I'm not squeezing him that hard, Bumblebee," the green one said, putting a strange twill at the end of his words. Bumblebee's actions only made Sam more afraid.

"P-please! Let me go!"

"Calm down, little one. We aren't going to harm you," the one with the deep voice said. It turned out to be the red and blue one.

"Pitiful little thing, isn't he?" the black one asked, he gruff voice holding amusement.

Sam went eerily still and stared at the black mech with a blank expression as the words brought up a torrent of painful memories. _A belt being brought down on bare skin, again and again until the welts started to bleed...Being shoved into the wall as a small child and beaten badly before his parents left, leaving him alone for a week to fend for himself...His father picking him up by the back of his shirt and bringing his fist back to __strike...And all the time, that one word uttered again and again. Pitiful, pitiful, pitiful, PITIFUL!_

"Samuel!" The green mech broke him out of the flashbacks. Sam realized that he was now sitting in the mech's cupped hands. "Are you alright? Your vitals are all over the place!"

"I-I'm fine," Sam muttered. "What the hell do you want, anyways? If you're going to hurt me, just get it over with."

"I already told you that we will not harm you," the blue and red one said gently.

"Damn. That was quite a mood swing," Ironhide muttered.

"Now, I believe we should introduce ourselves, as we already know your name. My name is Optimus Prime. My First Lieutenant, Jazz." The smallest one with the silver paint job. "Our medical officer, Ratchet." The green one that held him. "Our weapons specialist, Ironhide." The black one with the big guns and smart mouth. "And your guardian, Bumblebee."

Sam looked around at them, unsure of how to react, but feeling strangely _safe_ with these mechs. "So...what do you guys want? Why are you here? Where are you from?"

"Boy, he wastes no time," Ironhide snickered. Bumblebee moved in front of Ironhide and hissed. The black mech looked surprised. "Sorry." Bumblebee backed up, his optics narrowed on Ironhide.

"We are autonomous robotic organisms from the planet Cybertron," Optimus replied with a soft chuckle. He found the human's attitude shifts quite amusing, to say in the least.

"But you can call us Autobots for short," Ratchet added.

"Autobots," Sam murmured softly.

"And to answer your other questions..." Optimus began.

Optimus taught Sam about the Allspark, Megatron, and the Cybertronian War that had been going on for millennium before sending the boy home for his great-grandfather's glasses. Over the next few days, he had helped the Autobots beat the Decepticon leader and wiped all data of them out, even from the government. The latter part of the task actually hadn't been that hard, what with all the advanced technology the Autobots had. The Autobots were now living outside the city, deep in the forest where they had built a secret base. Sam loved visiting them, and did so every chance he got. The only other humans that knew of the Autobots existence were the soldiers that had helped him during the city battle, led by William Lennox and Robert Epps, Maggie, and Glen. Sam knew that they all tried to visit as often as possible, but they all had jobs and lived further away than he did.

Sam was silent as he sat in an alley reminiscing about how he met the Autobots. He finally sighed and stood up, pulling the hood of his jacket up over his head to hide the fresh bruise before walking into a nearby store and slipping into the bathroom. He made sure the lock was in place before he slung his backpack, which he'd grabbed in the mad dash to get out of the house, onto the sink. He shrugged out of his jacket and, after tossing it over the back of the toilet, unzipped his bag, pulling out his make-up kit.

Sam pulled his the sleeves of his long sleeved shirt up past his elbows, as he found it easier to apply the make-up that way, and stared at the scars decorating his skin. He new that there were over seventy, and the sad thing was, those were only the ones on his forearms; his father loved throwing him into glass things and watching him bleed. Sam shook his head and quickly washed his face and reapplied his make-up. He stared at the finished product before him. He had been wearing make-up in the first grade, when girls were just playing with the stuff. But all the time in between when he first started wearing make-up and the present time had been time with which he could perfect the art of applying it. His skin was the nice even brown that it should be, with no bruises or cuts, while black lined his eyes and colored his lips. His black hair was down past his shoulders, but his clothes were such pure black that you couldn't tell where the hair ended. If anybody ever asked who the first goth in his grade was, Sam was immediately pointed out.

The boy finally moved and replaced everything into his bag, slipped his jacket back on, and left the store. He stood out on a street corner and pulled out a cell phone, calling his guardian. Bumblebee picked up on the second ring.

"Yes, Sam?" he asked quietly.

"I need you to come pick me up. I'm staying over with you guys this weekend."

"I'm on my way, Sam."

Sam didn't even ask if the yellow mech needed his location; he knew Bumblebee could track the signal in his phone. The boy crossed his arms and leaned against the building behind him, patiently waiting for his guardian. After about five minutes, there was a drunken laugh from across the street and Sam's eyes popped open in surprise. Across the street was Trent and his gang, eying him eagerly. Sam cursed under his breath and pushed away from the building, walking quickly down the sidewalk. He could hear them following behind him, and he walked faster, fear rushing through him. He didn't want to face Trent right now. He wasn't in the mood, but that wouldn't stop the bully from getting in his face. Trent hated his guts and seemed determined to rip said guts out of his body.

"Hey, fagot!" Trent called out to him. "Wait up!"

Sam broke into a run, but knew it was no use. Sure enough, Trent effortlessly caught up to him and grabbed him, pinning him to the nearest thing available, which happened to be a tree. Sam swallowed nervously and stared into the blue eyes that were filled with such hatred and disgust.

"Where do you think you're going? I told you to wait," Trent growled in his face.

When Sam didn't reply, Trent slugged him in the stomach. Sam doubled over, gasping for air as pain lashed through his body, making his vision blur. As Trent raised his fist again, Sam heard a familiar engine growling and nearly sobbed in relief as he barreled through the barrier that Trent's gang had made around him. Bumblebee turned the corner and the passenger door swung open. Sam dove into the car and slammed the door behind him. The boy relaxed as Bumblebee drove him away from his tormentors and towards the Autobot base. The first half of the drive was made in silence, but his guardian broke it with a statement.

"You're wearing more make-up then usual."

"Yeah."

"Why?"

Sam opened his eyes and stared up at the stars, not answering the question for a moment. One thing that made him special amongst the other humans that knew the Autobots was something he could do. He'd noticed all of the Autobots pointing out lies from everybody else, yet they never caught him. It was like he was telling the truth all the time, and Optimus had actually thanked him for his honesty once. Sam had lied his whole life, to everybody around him, and it had become so natural that it didn't affect his heart rate or anything else that would give him away.

"Why?" Bumblebee repeated.

"They jumped me once before tonight," Sam lied easily, staring out the window.

"Oh. Well, Ratchet should take a look at it when we get there, right?"

Sam shrugged listlessly, and heard Bumblebee sigh in disappointment. All the Autobots had been trying to get him to open up to them, to trust them like they trusted him, but Sam just couldn't do it. He'd been hurt so many times that he didn't really know what trust was. To be honest, he didn't really know how to socialize, either. He felt strange whenever one of the Autobots sat down to have a conversation with him, and the Autobot did all the talking. All the conversations were bad in some way. Jazz was the one who tried to get him to socialize. He would sit down and talk to Sam like they were best friends, and then pause and just stare at him. The mech wouldn't start talking again until he got some sort of verbal reply from Sam. Ratchet was no better, as he wanted very much to look over Sam's body. The boy just couldn't let that happen, because all the scars would reveal that something was off about his life. Ironhide was the easiest to talk to; Sam just had to sidetrack the black mech with a question about a weapon, and Ironhide was immediately distracted. Sam had to admit that he'd learned a whole lot about Cybertronian weaponry from that mech. Bumblebee would try to open him up, asking questions about his feelings and the goings-on of his day. Sam couldn't help but feel a bit guilty when Bumblebee was upset at his lack of response to the questions. But out of all of the Autobots, Optimus Prime himself was the worst. The mech would sit down and ask a question. When Sam would finally give an answer, the mech's blue optics seemed to be analyzing him and his answer, and it made the boy uncomfortable. The human teen knew that he had to tread carefully around Optimus, as he was the one who seemed to sense something about Sam was different from the other humans.

"Sam, we're here."

Sam slipped out of the car and was greeted by the biting scent of pine. They were close to the Autobot base, but had to walk the last bit as none of their car forms would fit through the small spaces in the trees. Sam started walking towards the base while Bumblebee transformed into his robot mode. His guardian quickly caught up to him and picked him up in his hands. The boy relaxed into the warm yellow metal, sighing as the dull ache in his body made itself known. His stomach wasn't feeling so bad, but his cheek was slightly throbbing. The journey to the base was swift, and as Bumblebee walked in, the other Autobots looked up.

"You're wearing more make-up then usual, Samuel," Ratchet remarked immediately.

"He was jumped. Twice," Bumblebee replied, hot anger coloring his voice. "They left a mark on his face, I bet."

"Hmm. May I see it?" Ratchet asked hopefully.

"It's just a bruise," Sam grumbled, pressing tiredly into Bumblebee.

"Oh. Alright."

Damn! He hated hearing any of the Autobots so disappointed, but he wasn't about to let Ratchet look him over. After a moment of silence Optimus walked over to Bumblebee and peered closely at Sam. The boy got the feeling that he was being analyzed again and there was a sweep of fear through him as he hoped he wasn't found out. Optimus evidently saw nothing of interest and reached up to stroke the boy's back.

"Stop that!" Sam snarled and pulled away from the gentle hand.

"Why?" Optimus countered.

"I don't like being treated as a pet!"

"I never said you were a pet, Sam," Optimus stated matter-of-factly.

"Then why the hell do you have to pet me?" Sam mumbled irritably.

"Hey man, I explained it to ya already," Jazz said, sidling up to them. "It's the way we Autobots share affection and show that we're good friends."

"Well, I don't like it."

"Sounds like somebody's tired," Ratchet chuckled. "I think you'd better go to bed, little one."

"Don't call me little," Sam groused as he pulled his hood on.

"Why are you doing that?" Ironhide asked quietly.

Sam didn't reply, instead, curling tighter against Bumblebee. The black mech wasn't so easily dissuaded though.

"Answer me, boy," Ironhide growled. When Sam remained silent, Ironhide made his way angrily over to the boy.

"Ironhide, don't you dare!" Bumblebee snarled, pulling Sam close to his chest.

"He needs to learn respect!"

"He's tired right now, and in pain. Let him rest! Isn't he usually respectful? Hmm?"

"To a degree, yes, but past that, no! He never answers any personal questions without a lot of, what should be unnecessary, prodding!"

"Ironhide," Optimus said quietly. "Don't start this now. Leave it be until morning."

The black mech snorted in anger, but did as Optimus said and left Sam alone. Silence coaxed Sam to relax and go to sleep, and he eagerly settled in against his guardian. Right before he fell asleep, he could swear he heard somebody singing a lullaby.


	2. Opening Wounds

Another chapter, my peoples. Please enjoy.

To Peya Luna, let me explain something that I don't really make clear in the story. You're right; Bee would hear Sam if he were staying in the driveway, but he isn't. Sam made up an excuse to Bee that his parents were going to sell the car because they were low on money. Sam convinced Bee to stay in the base with the other Autobots, thus ridding himself of the risk of his secret being found out. Hope that clears it up.

* * *

Sam woke up feeling strangely warm and safe. He sat up and stretched, yawning as he looked around. Early morning sunlight shone brightly through the windows and glinted on the metal armor of the Autobots that were sleeping around the room. Sam slipped out of his guardian's hands and down onto the berth from the surprisingly comfortable metal of Bumblebee's chest. The metal of the berth was soft and molded around his feet, causing Sam to smile before he could help himself. He had never known metal could be so soft before the Autobots had shown up and proved him wrong.

Sam slid down the side of the berth and landed easily on the floor. Grabbing his bag out of a corner of the room, he slipped into the bathroom and, looking in the mirror, noticed the bruise was showing through the make-up. He quickly reapplied it, knowing that Bumblebee would stop him if the mech caught him. Sam's guardian hated it when the boy wore make-up around him and the other Autobots. The yellow mech felt Sam was hiding behind a mask when he put that stuff on.

"If only he knew," Sam murmured to himself as he put the make-up kit back into his bag and ran a brush through his hair.

"If only who knew what, Sam?" Bumblebee asked, suddenly appearing behind Sam in his holo-form.

"Nothing, Bee," Sam mumbled as he finished brushing his hair, hating the way the Autobots could sneak up on him like that.

"You know I don't like you wearing that stuff around us," Bumblebee stated, arching an optic ridge at Sam. When the boy didn't reply, the mech sighed. "Come. Optimus wants to speak with you."

Bumblebee disappeared, but Sam didn't move from where he was. He really didn't want to talk to Optimus, if Ironhide's accusation from last night was anything to go off of. Sam honestly couldn't deny that he didn't answer questions about his home, school, and social life, and he most definitely didn't want to talk about why. He had a feeling that the conversation would be about that particular subject and knew that it would be highly unpleasant, for him at least. Maybe he could get out of it somehow... He was torn from his planning when Bumblebee appeared behind him again.

"Sam," Bumblebee said quietly, "I will physically carry you out of here if I have to."

"Fine, fine," Sam sighed and followed Bumblebee's holo-form out of the room.

His guardian, who was waiting right outside the door, scooped him up as soon as he was out of the small bathroom. Sam could feel knowledgeable optics staring at him as Bumblebee quickly strode across the room to the others, but the boy didn't look up. He pressed into the yellow chest behind him and kept his eyes fixated on his lap.

"You put more of that shit on, didn't you?" Ironhide asked angrily; Bumblebee wasn't the only Autobot that hated him wearing make-up. All of them did, and they felt the same way as the yellow mech did about it being a mask.

"Yeah," Sam mumbled in response.

"Can we talk to him about it now?" Jazz asked, sounding impatient.

"Yes. Let's get this out in the open," Optimus replied with a sigh; this wasn't going to be easy, and he knew it.

"No," Sam growled, knowing that he really didn't want to talk about whatever they were hinting at.

"You don't get a choice, Sam" Ironhide snapped, optics sparking in rage.

"Ironhide, chill out, man," Jazz admonished the black mech. "We're tryin' to make him trust us."

"You can't _make_ me do anything!" Sam growled, anger flaring up inside him and making his black eyes shine.

"What did you say?" Ironhide asked, glaring down at Sam.

"You heard me," Sam retaliated, smiling as Ironhide grew even angrier.

"Boy, I'm going to-" Ironhide started, but was cut off by Optimus.

"Ironhide, calm down! He's baiting you."

Ironhide didn't look happy, but stopped talking at his leader's command. Optimus pinched the bridge of his olfactory sensors, a human gesture he'd picked up from Lennox, and sighed again. He looked over at Sam and the anger drained out of the boy's eyes quickly at the stern expression on Optimus's face. In fact, if Optimus didn't know better, he'd say a flash of fear filled Sam's eyes...

"Sam we need to discuss your behavior," Optimus said softly.

"I haven't done anything wrong," Sam whispered, actually shrinking away from the Autobot leader.

"No! Of course not, Sam!" Optimus reassured him quickly. "It's just...you don't seem to want to be our friend."

"But I thought we were friends," Sam replied, confusion filling his face and his fear draining away.

"Are we?" Ironhide asked bluntly.

"What Ironhide means to say," Ratchet said quickly. "is that you aren't really acting like you're our friend."

Sam felt a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. He didn't know how to act like a friend as he'd never had friendships with any _humans, _so how was he supposed to interact with the Autobots? Thankfully, Jazz started talking so Sam didn't have to say anything just yet.

"We know the way humans show friendship is different than Cybertronians, and we accept that. But we're thinkin' that we know each other well enough, we could teach ya how friends on Cybertron act, and maybe you could start acting that way with us?"

"This might be hard for you, Sam, and we understand that you might not get it right away," Optimus said softly. "But we do want you to try."

"Okay," Sam said warily. "What's so different?"

"Well, for one thing, friends talk to each other. They open up," Ironhide said, his optics glinting.

"Damn it! Would you shut up about that?" Sam snapped, anger quickly rising to the surface before he could stop it.

"Are you our friend or aren't you?" Ironhide growled.

"Why don't you take your own advice, hmm? You say 'open up,' but you've never done so for me! Why should I tell you anything when you don't tell me shit?"

"Watch your mouth boy!" Ironhide snarled.

"Ironhide, please!" Optimus said, reaching over to touch the black mech.

"I'm tired of you shooting off your mouth!"

"Hey, I dish out only what's given to me first!" Sam shouted back at him.

"Why you little!" Ironhide growled, his holo-form appearing in front of Sam, who had been set on a berth. "I'm going to teach you some manners!" Ironhide grabbed Sam's arm roughly.

Sam's reaction was instant. He screamed at the top of his lungs, his body jerking back from the touch that promised pain. The Autobots all jumped at the sound and Ironhide let go of Sam immediately, his optics widening in shock. The human boy recoiled from the black mech, raw fear in his black eyes. He stopped screaming and stood there for a second, his breathing quick and shallow, and his eyes wild and scared, and then he jumped off the berth and stumbled into the bathroom again, slamming and locking the door behind him. He leaned over the sink pressing the heels of his palms to his eyes to try to stop the flood of tears, but to no avail. They slipped our of his eyes and stained his cheeks black as they dragged the make-up down his cheeks with them. Soft sobs left his mouth and he pressed his back against the nearest wall, sliding down it to sit down on the floor. A soft knock sounded at the door.

"Sam, are you alright?" Bumblebee's soft voice asked.

"Go away!" Sam shouted, wincing as his voice cracked.

"Sam, I only want to help," Bumblebee said, his warm voice promising comfort and love. That warmth made Sam even more upset.

"Go the fuck away!" Sam screamed.

The noise on the other side of the door stopped completely, the mechs giving Sam what he wanted. The boy sat on the floor, crying softly for a while longer before he could stop. He finally took a deep, shuddering breath and stood up shakily, grabbing onto the sink for support. He was very glad that Maggie had helped design the human part of the base; the others would have forgotten a lock on the door and a mirror. Sam stared at his face in the mirror and sighed. The eye liner had created black lines down his cheeks and had also smeared his lipstick. He turned the sink on cold and washed his face, cleaning away all of the make-up.

When he looked back up in the mirror, he stared at his face; he hadn't looked at his face without make-up in a while, and now he was painfully reminded why. His dark eyes stood out in his face, looking lost from the recent scare. His brown skin was framed by his locks of hair, the paleness contrasting greatly with the deep black, but that wasn't the part that bothered him. What bothered him was the multitude of scars that decorated his face. The bruise stood out dark surrounded by small scars with a few pale scars crossing into the bruise. The worst one by far was the jagged one that went from beneath his right eye, across his cheek, and stopped at his jaw line. As he stared at it, the memory of how he got it surfaced.

_His father had been drunk and angry, at who, Sam had never found out. Probably somebody at work that had talked back to him. The young teen was cautious and avoided his father like the plague, ducking into shadows so that he wouldn't be noticed. After a few hours of reading outside, he was about to slip up the stairs and go to bed, but his growling stomach promised little sleep until it was fed. He'd quickly got a snack and was heading out of the kitchen when he bumped right into his father. The man looked very angry, and Sam tried to shrink back away from him. It was too late, though. His father grabbed him up by his shirt and threw him as hard as he could across the room. Sam cried out as pain shot through his face, burning and bringing tears to his eyes. He lie there, not daring to move a muscle until his father, after hurling curses and hurtful insults at his son, turned and left the room._

Sam remembered crawling up to the bathroom and staunching the blood flow, crying from the intense pain all the while. A sneer came to his face as his eyes slid to other scars. He could remember how he'd received them. Every single one of them. Sam took several deep breaths, reminding himself that the Autobots would come in if he grew too loud or if he broke something. He didn't want them to see him like this; they'd never seen any of his scars, except the ones on his hands, and those he'd explained by claiming it was hard work that had marked his skin.

Sam reached down and grabbed his bag, which he'd left in there, taking out his make-up. He worked quickly to cover the scars and make them look like they weren't even there. He carefully put on the eye liner last then looked at his whole face again. He had to admit to himself that he was good, as there was no evidence of any imperfection on his face. He could even fool the Autobots. As if his thoughts had been heard, there was a gentle knock on the door.

"Sam? May I come in?" Bumblebee asked quietly.

After making absolutely sure none of his scars showed, Sam answered, "Yeah."

Bumblebee was immediately behind Sam and wrapped his arms tightly around the boy, pulling him close. Sam shifted in the warm embrace, but was content to stay there until Bumblebee started tracing up his back. Sam pulled away, afraid the yellow mech would feel the scars that ran down his back. Bumblebee sighed and placed a warm hand on Sam's shoulder.

"Are you sure you're alright? I've never heard any human make a noise like that before."

"I'm fine, Bee."

"Why did you-"

"I said, I'm fine!" Sam growled.

Bumblebee let the subject drop. "Ready to come out?"

Sam shrugged. "I guess."

The boy followed Bumblebee out of the bathroom for the second time in as many hours; it was getting old really quickly. He was immediately greeted by worried cries from all of the other Autobots. The bright optics that stared at him were full of loving concern and worry, so much so that it made his heart ache. He hated hurting them so much, but he had to. He didn't want to be hurt, and causing a little pain in others to prevent the intense pain that he usually felt. Bumblebee leaned down and gently picked Sam up as the others hurried over to see if he was alright, cradling the boy to his chest. Sam sighed and snuggled into his guardian, loving the familiarity of the postion.

"Sam! I'm sorry! Whatever I did, I'm so very sorry! I swear I didn't mean anything by it!" Ironhide said as soon as he reached the boy.

"Did he hurt you?" Ratchet asked, scanning over the boy.

"I'm fine, Ratchet," Sam said softly as Ratchet completed his scan. "He didn't hurt me."

"I'm sorry!" Ironhide repeated, his voice getting slightly frantic.

"I get it, Ironhide. I really do. And I'm sorry for yelling at you. It wasn't right of me. And Optimus was right. I was baiting you."

"I shouldn't have risen to your prompting. I'm older than you, and I should have acted more mature," Ironhide said gently. The black mech had the urge to pet Sam, as he would any Cybertronian that he'd upset, but he pushed the urge away, reminding himself that Sam wasn't from Cybertron.

"Man, what prompted you to-" Jazz started.

"I said, I'm fine," Sam growled.

Jazz went silent and exchanged a worried glance with Optimus. While Sam had locked himself in the bathroom, Optimus had mentioned that something was strange about Sam. It seemed that the boy could to lie to them, even when other humans couldn't. Something about that wasn't right, and all of them felt that. They had looked up things about lying on the internet, and it seemed that humans could control their vitals while lying, but it took a lot of practice, and Sam was too young to have that much practice, unless something was wrong. However, there was a scent that humans produced when they were lying that only the Autobots could really smell, and the humans couldn't change that. Yet Sam's scent had never changed, even when Optimus knew he was lying, and he knew that Sam knew. The thing that sadened the Autobot leader the most was that lying to them didn't even phase the boy; Sam could lie to them without even skipping a beat.

"Sam," Optimus began. "If there's anything, and I mean _anything_ that you want to talk to us about, or that you feel you need to say, don't hesitate to speak of it."

"Okay," Sam said, not really believing that he'd ever do that.

"We'll listen, man, to whatever it is you need to say," Jazz put in.

Sam nodded and leaned back against Bumblebee, looking everywhere around the room, except for at the Autobots. He felt uncomfortable, and there was a feeling in his gut that there was more to the conversation than what it sounded like on the surface. Sighing, he finally stood up and looked imploringly up at Optimus, his black eyes hopeful.

"Can we please change the subject? I mean, I have to go home tomorrow..."

"Sure, Sam. What do you want to do?" Optimus asked with a smile, but deep in his spark, he knew that this wasn't over. Not by a long shot.


	3. Revelation

Another chapter. Short but...well I think you'll enjoy. Any questions that I can answer, I will.

To Horser01. Sam does hide, but in doing that he avoids touch. He hates being touched. A strong reason why he doesn't like the Autobots petting him. As for the microscopic details...we'll go with they think it's part of the make-up. Honestly I really didn't think _that_ deep. And I don't mind you nit-picking. It makes me think and consider the plot to a more detailed degree.

To Sipi3. I don't know where I get the ideas. They just happen.

To Matron. Sam's parents don't hurt him every day. He managed to avoid a beating during that week.

* * *

A few weeks had passed since Sam had spoken with the Autobots about Cybertronian friendships. He'd visited them as often as possible, but it wasn't easy as he was swamped with homework from his classes. He struggled along in everything, trying to maintain his B average so his parents didn't have a reason to punish him. He knew that he could go to the Autobots for help, Ratchet would be especially eager, but he knew that would raise questions about things he did at school. He was embarrassed that he was a social outcast when he was around the Autobots, and they reminded him of it often.

Bumblebee was constantly asking about his nonexistent friends and if he had any plans with them to go somewhere. Sam had always lied, saying that he had plans with some made up friend or other, and then staying at home and wishing that he could be with the Autobots. Ironhide asked if he and his friends had ever gotten into fights. Sam could answer truthfully on that one and said no. Ratchet would ask humiliating questions about how well his friends were developed compared to him. Sam's face was blazing as he told the medic that it was, still, none of his business. Jazz was fascinated by Earth's social structure and would ask how he would react to certain situations with friends. The teen could usually find a way to distract Jazz by retaliating with 'How would _you_ react, Jazz?' Optimus's questions, as usual, were the hardest to answer. The Autobot leader would ask Sam to describe what his friends looked like and about how the characteristics of their personality differed from his. Sam had to make up so much about people that it made his head hurt.

Sam had actually managed to avoid a beating since that night by walking on eggshells around his parents. He'd spend time in the tops of trees at the park, doing his homework and avoiding Trent and his gang at the same time. He'd been spotted once, when he was on the ground, but he had managed to get away. The only problem with the lack of beatings was that the Autobots were asking that he stop wearing make-up as he now had nothing to hide, or so they thought. Every time he saw them, they were becoming more insistent. It bothered Sam, and he'd avoided the Autobot base for a while now. Bumblebee had called his phone a few times, but the teen had just let it ring, ignoring the pangs of guilt it brought on. As if Sam's thoughts had been heard, his phone rang. He pulled it out of his pocket and checked it. It was Bumblebee.

"Who else would be calling?" Sam muttered and slipped the phone back into his pocket.

He waited for five minutes before he gave into the urge to check his voice-mail. He looked around, making sure he was alone, then dialed and waited. Bumblebee's smooth voice came on the line, sounding upset and worried.

"Samuel James Witwicky! If you don't answer your phone the next time I call, I will come and get you myself! This is getting ridiculous! Did we do something to upset you? Is this about the make-up? Please call back! You're worrying all of us!"

Sam sighed as guilt swamped through him and moved to slip the phone back into his pocket when a rough hand grabbed his wrist. He gasped as pressure was put on it, making him drop the phone into the waiting hand.

"Why do you have a phone? You ain't got no friends to talk to!" Trent snickered.

Sam's eyes widened as the phone rang again. Trent looked at the screen and threw Sam to his gang. His arms were grabbed and held just this side of breaking, causing him to cry out.

"Bumblebee? You shitting me? What kind of a name is Bumblebee?" Trent laughed then answered the phone. "Yo." He paused, listening with obvious amusement to the other end of the phone. "Naw, we got _Samuel_ right here." Pause. "We ain't hurt him. Yet." Pause. "And what the hell are you going to do if we do?" Trent's face paled a little at the reply. "There's no way in hell you could do that!" He hung up the phone abruptly and spun around to face Sam. "Do you know what _Bumblebee_ just told me?" He paused, waiting for an answer. "Answer me, damn it!" He slugged Sam in the stomach.

"N-no," Sam groaned. "W-what did he say?"

"He said not to hurt you. He said he'd shove a gun up my ass and blow me apart from the inside out if I hurt you. But you know what? Talk's cheap."

Trent slugged Sam in the gut again, making the boy jerk back and try to double over. He was in pain, but his mind was working over time. Bumblebee was coming to get him, and it wouldn't be a pretty picture if the yellow mech caught Trent beating on him. He had to get away from them and get home. Sam used a burst of energy to break away from the ones holding him. He twisted past Trent, grabbing his phone as he passed him, and took off down the sidewalk. He could hear Trent closing in behind him fast, and cursed that the jerk was a jock. Right before he was caught, Sam turned and nimbly hopped a fence, running through back yards towards his house. He finally lost them only because Trent couldn't hop fences as fast as he could, but he didn't stop running until he got home. He ran in the back door and slammed it closed behind him, pressing his back against it. He barely had time to shudder when a yell resounded through the house.

"What in the hell do you think you're doing boy?" Ron yelled.

Sam gasped and turned to open the door, picking Trent over his father any day. Before he could even grab the knob, he was jerked backwards and dragged out of the room by his shirt. The world lurched and pain exploded up his lower back as he hit the end table and slid to the floor. A groan passed his lips as he looked up at his father, fear coursing through him He wanted to get away, but he knew the chances of that were slim to none. A fist slammed into his face causing him to scream in pain and arch back.

"What have I told you about slamming doors in my house? Answer me!"

"T-to not to! I-I-I'm sorry! I w-won't do it again! I p-promise!" Sam gasped through the pain, trying to placate the angry man in front of him.

"I'll make sure you don't do it again, you little fucker!"

Sam screamed again as his father started to strike him over and over. He could feel blood ooze out of a fresh cut in his cheek and attempted to scramble away. He was grabbed by the back of his shirt again and thrown into the middle of the room. Ron stood over him and snarled, glaring down at the boy he called son. Sam bolted up the stairs the first chance he got, gasping as he shut and locked the door behind him. Ron was yelling at him to get back down there, but there was no way in hell Sam was going to listen. The boy could feel something warm and wet sliding out of the place where he'd hit the table, and he reached back to feel it. His hand came away with blood, bright and fresh. Sam took a step forward and gasped as his back protested the movement. He sank to the floor and began to cry, knowing that his father would come up to get him any minute now. There was a ringing and Sam grabbed his phone out of his pocket. He was so frightened and all he could think was that Bumblebee would help him.

"Bee!" Sam sobbed as soon as he'd answered.

"Sam? What's the matter?" the yellow mech asked alarmed.

"H-he's going to get me! You gotta help!" Sam moaned.

"Who's going to get you? Sam answer me!"

"I-it's always been him! He's the one that's given me all the bruises, all the s-scars! I-I think he's going to kill me this time!" Sam spoke frantically, trying to get everything out. He wasn't really thinking of keeping it secret anymore. He just didn't want anymore pain.

"Who, Sam, who?" Bumblebee asked.

"It's my-" Sam started then the door burst open, the lock snapping.

"Get the fuck over here!" Ron yelled.

"G-get away from me!" Sam gasped.

"Sam!" Bumblebee cried out.

Ron glanced down at the phone. "Who the hell did you call?" Sam tried to hang up the phone, but it was jerked out of his grasp before he could. "Who is this?" Ron's face went redder as he listened. "He's my fucking son, and I can punish him if I want!" His father hung up the phone and threw it at Sam, hitting the boy in the head. "You are in big trouble, boy!"

Sam whimpered and pressed himself against the wall, fear rushing through him as he stared up at the rage-filled eyes of his father. He knew he was going to be in a lot of pain really soon. His father just stood there for a moment before reaching down and dragging Sam up by his upper arm. Sam tried to pull away, but his father just tightened his grip to bruising strength. Sam tried desperately to hold back more tears; he'd only get it worse if he cried. His father thought of it as a weakness, and would attempt to beat it out of him. The teen nearly tripped as his father dragged him down the stairs, but he managed to regain his balance. He was thrown unceremoniously to the floor when they reached the living room. Sam trembled as memories of being in a similar position surfaced. The living room was his father's favorite place to 'discipline' him.

Without a word, Ron pulled out his belt and struck Sam. The burning sting lashed through him, but it wasn't as bad as it would get. Sam made a dash for the door, but his father grabbed him and threw him onto the coffee table. Glass decorations shattered beneath his weight and the shards cut deep into his side. A loud scream tore from his throat and he tried to ease the pain by rolling off the table. He landed in more glass and his chest was filled with the fragments. Sam couldn't help it after that. He started to cry. It hurt so badly, yet he knew it wasn't over. Not by a long shot. He was struck with the belt again, and the material came away from his body stained with blood. His father got a rhythm going with the belt, striking his son over and over and yelling curses all the while. His skin was raw and bloody as he tried to weakly crawl away from Ron.

"I'm not done with you yet!" Ron snarled and raised the belt for another strike.

The belt was jerked out of Ron's hands violently, and he was thrown against a wall. Sam's vision was blurry, but he could make out an alien looking being holding his father up effortlessly.

"B-B-Bumblebee!" Sam gasped, reaching out for him.

The yellow mech dropped Ron and spun around. "Sam!"

Bumblebee was suddenly beside him, gingerly picking him up. The warm blue optics that stared down at him were so caring that he cried harder. Bumblebee cradled him closer.

"Oh, Sam. It's alright. I'm here now. He won't touch you again."

"I-it hurts. Everything h-hurts," Sam whimpered, burying his face in his guardian's warm neck.

"Oh, I know. I'm going to get you to Ratchet as quickly as possible."

"What the hell are you?" Ron snarled from behind them.

Bumblebee gently set Sam down on the couch and turned around to face Ron. "That is none of your business."

"You're in my house, you answer me!"

"No," Bumblebee said simply. "And let me tell you something. If you ever come near my boy again, I will tear you limb from limb. You have no right to harm him, and I won't let you."

Bumblebee ignored the sputtering human and picked Sam up again. He carried the boy up to his room and tenderly set him on the bed. After nuzzling Sam's face, he started gathering up clothes from around the room. Sam could barely see, and his breathing was ragged from pain. He barely had enough mind left to ask Bumblebee a question.

"W-what are you d-d-doing?" Sam managed to whisper.

"You're not coming back here, Sam. You're coming to stay with us."

"O-optimus?"

"He won't object when he finds out. Trust me."

Sam nodded, his eyes closing as unconsciousness tugged at him. He was about to succomb to it when the world moved and he opened his eyes again. Bumblebee was carrying him again. Sam blinked slowly, and they were suddenly outside. He blinked again, and he was lying in the back seat of Bumblebee's Camaro form. The mech's holo-form was gently stroking his hair away from his face. Sam whimpered and clutched at Bumblebee's hand.

"B-Bee."

"Go on to sleep Sam. We'll be there soon."

Sam sighed and relaxed against his guardian, finally slipping into an uneasy sleep.


	4. Discussions

Okay peoples. You get to decide whether I'll write one more chapter for this. If you guys don't want another one, this will be the last chapter.

To Horser01. I fixed the phone bit in the last chapter.

To LadyLombax. It was Bee's holo-form. P.S. Ratchet and Clank rocks!

* * *

Sam woke slowly, his body stiff and sore. When he shifted slightly, dull pain flared all around his torso, wringing a hiss out of him. Immediately something moved beside him, and Sam opened his eyes to stare into the loving optics of his guardian. Bumblebee tenderly brought a hand up to lightly touch Sam's face. The boy automatically flinched away from the touch, but, instead of stopping the touching as he usually did, Bumblebee appeared behind him in holo-form and started to pet him. The mech's fingers ghosted over the bandages, just barely grazing, yet Sam could feel every touch and he didn't like it. Touch usually meant pain and pain meant...

"Sam, I'm not going to hurt you," Bumblebee whispered in his ear. "Have I ever hurt you?"

Sam let out a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding. "No."

"Then relax. Let me pet you," Bumblebee said, a smile in his voice. "I've never gotten to, and it bothers me."

Sam was tense for a few minutes, still expecting pain instead of gentleness, but soon relaxed into the warm touch. It felt...nice, not painful in the slightest. The boy lost track of time as Bumblebee stroked his skin, cooing to the boy in his own language. He didn't even move when his guardian's hands moved up his neck. It was when they touched his face that he jerked away, his hands flying to his face to hide it. What he felt, or didn't feel, made him sit up, feeling suddenly naked and vulnerable in front of Bumblebee.

"My-my..." Sam started then froze, taking in his surroundings.

He was in Ratchet's med-bay, on a berth with his guardian beside him. As the blankets pooled around his waist, he got a good look at just how many bandages were on him. They went from under his arms to his waist, and from his shoulders to his wrists. To his dismay, those were the only things on his body. The blanket barely covered his nakedness and he jerked it back up to wrap around him, tears stinging his eyes. He didn't know what was going on, but he most definitely didn't like it.

"Sam, calm down," Bumblebee said as his holo-form sat up and wrapped his arms around the frightened boy.

"Calm down?" Sam whimpered. "How the hell can I calm down? W-what's going on?"

"You...don't remember, do you?" Bumblebee sighed when Sam shook his head. "I called you and you told me to save you. That _he_ was coming for you. You were cut off before you could tell me who 'he' was. I came in your house to find your father beating the hell out of you. I stopped him, packed up your things, and brought you here to Ratchet. It took him two and a half hours to get all the glass out of your body. You woke up several times, bellowing for me or one of the others, begging us to save you. When Ratchet was done with the glass, he asked me to bathe you before he sterilized and bandaged you." Bumblebee stopped talking for a moment. "You have many scars, Sam."

Sam groaned and pulled the blanket tighter against him, feeling a wave of horror crash over him. The Autobots knew his secret now. They'd look at him with pity and treat him differently. He probably wouldn't be welcome here anymore. They'd think he was a freak and...

"Sam, look at me!" Bumblebee growled softly, the tone of his voice bringing Sam's panicking eyes up to him. "What are you thinking? And don't you even _think_ about lying to me this time!"

Sam was so surprised at being pointed out at lying that he spoke his mind before he thought about it. "You guys don't want to be my friends anymore."

"What? Just what makes you say that? We're still your friends," Bumblebee said, genuinely confused.

"You guys know about it so you don't want to be my friends," Sam replied, tears slipping out of his eyes before he could stop them. "It's okay. I get that a lot. I'm used to being friendless."

"Now you wait one minute! Just because we know your father abuses you is no reason to think that we'll stop being your friends! I can't believe what your saying! Now look at me, Sam. We are your friends, and we are staying your friends. Got it?"

Sam sniffled. "Really?"

"Really, and if anybody has any complaints about it, I'll put a stop to them," Bumblebee said fiercely.

Sam blinked slowly before throwing himself into Bumblebee's holo-form's arms. He was held tightly against the mech, his bandaged back stroked tenderly as he was rocked back and forth. A shiver went through him, and he sobbed quietly against his guardian's neck. He finally calmed down and just lay there, suddenly feeling the soreness of his body. Bumblebee pulled back and wiped the tears off his flushed cheeks before pulling the blanket, which had slipped down to the berth, up to cover his boy properly.

"Feel better?" Bumblebee asked softly.

"Yeah," Sam said with a tentative smile. "Um, thanks."

"Good. Now I have to get Ratchet. He'll want to check over you."

Sam had a thought as Bumblebee got up. "Hey, Bee?"

"Yes, Sam?" his guardian asked, turning to look at him.

"How long was I out?"

Bumblebee's face saddened. "Nearly two days."

"Only two?"

"What do you mean by 'only'?"

"My record's three and a half," Sam stated, curling under his blanket and closing his eyes.

Bumblebee left without another word, quickly fetching Ratchet. Sam yelped and opened his eyes as the medic picked him up without any preamble and scanned him quickly.

"Temperature's back to normal," Ratchet stated happily, setting the boy back down and bringing up his holo-form. "Lose the blanket."

Sam felt very shy quite suddenly and tightened his grip minutely, but Ratchet saw it and sighed. The medic's holo-form leaned forward and carefully pried the blanket away from the boy, tossing it aside before starting to cut the bandages. Sam blushed, but watched curiously as the medic worked quickly. When he saw how many new scars he was going to have, his teeth gritted together and he growled low in his throat. Ratchet's optics raised up to meet Sam's angry black eyes. A croon sounded low in the medic's vocalizer, a sound meant for comfort, and it worked. As Ratchet looked back down to tend the boy's wounds, Sam suddenly wondered what the Autobots had chosen for their human holo-forms. They'd never really used any of them in front of the humans, preferring to be a smaller version of their robotic forms.

"That wasn't so bad, now was it?" Ratchet asked lightly, snapping Sam out of his thoughts.

"Huh? You're done?" Sam asked confused.

"Yes. All I have left is to rebind your bandages. Hold still now."

The process was quick and simple, Ratchet's nimble fingers wrapping fresh bandages around Sam's torso and arms. Sam felt a hand stroke down his back and he turned to look at Bumblebee. His guardian smiled warmly and scooped him up as soon as Ratchet was done. The medic quickly excused himself and hurried out of the room to report Sam's statis to Ironhide, Jazz, and Optimus.

"Are you ready to face the others?" Bumblebee asked gently after Ratchet left.

Sam stilled and went silent for a moment. "Do I have to?"

"Yes. We want to talk to you about this. It...surprised us all. Especially that you could lie to us so easily."

"How did you find that out?" Sam asked.

"I'm not telling you until we discuss this with the others."

Sam sighed and thought for a few minutes before replying resignedly, "Fine, but I'm not going out there naked."

"We've all seen everything Sam. There's really nothing left you can hide."

Even while Bumblebee said that, he sent his holo-form to get some of Sam's clothes out from the bag they were packed in and brought them to the boy. Sam frowned when he noticed that his guardian hadn't brought him a shirt or shoes, but one look at Bumblebee's stern optics made the reply die in his throat before he even opened his mouth. He slipped the black boxers and black jeans on without comment.

"Tell me Sam, do you own any clothes that aren't black? I didn't see any when I was packing up for you."

"No."

"Why?" Bumblebee asked bemusedly.

Sam looked up at Bumblebee and smirked. "I'm not telling you until we discuss this with the others."

"Oh very original. How did you think of such a witty response?" Bumblebee asked sarcastically.

Sam chuckled as his guardian picked him up, holding the boy close to his chest as he left the room. Sam immediately felt optics focus on him, and he became very aware that he wasn't wearing a shirt or make-up. He ducked his head forward and let his hair cover his scarred face. A growl from Ironhide made Sam look at the black mech through his hair. Ironhide didn't look pleased at what Sam had done. Optimus's hand pressed on the weapons specialist's shoulder, causing the black mech to stay silent. His stomach clenched as nervousness fluttered inside him and brought his shyness to the surface.

"Are ya okay man?" Jazz asked quietly.

Sam nodded. "Yeah," he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. "I-I'm used to it."

"But you shouldn't be!" Ironhide yelled, unable to control himself any longer. He'd been bursting to talk to Sam about this since Bumblebee had shown up with the broken boy. "Nobody should be hurt like that! Nobody! Especially a child by his own father! It's not right, damn it! It's not!"

Sam stared at Ironhide, completely forgetting about his scars as he took in the mech's words. He'd never heard Ironhide speak so passionately about something, but he didn't understand why the mech thought so.

"But I didn't listen to what he said. I deserved-"

"No!" all the Autobots practically shouted in unison, making Sam start.

"You don't deserve what that...monster has done to you! You're a sweet, sensitive boy who doesn't deserve to be hurt like that," Ironhide said, optics flaring brightly.

"How do you know what I'm like?" Sam demanded. "I've never been myself around you!"

The boy's hands leaped up to his mouth after he realized what he'd said. A blush spread across his cheeks and he ducked his head, unable to look at the ones he called friends. Bumblebee sat down on the floor with a sigh and, after setting Sam down on the floor, projected himself human sized. The others did the same, sitting around Sam. Optimus reached over and brushed the boy's hair behind his ears before tilting his face up.

"We know you've never been yourself around us," the Autobot leader said calmly.

"How?" Sam whispered, jerking away from Optimus's hand and looking back down.

"Simple. I've observed how other humans act around one another and noticed that they usually act different in front of their friends than they do in front of family or strangers. I followed you around school one day and noticed that you acted the same around the humans that bullied you as you did around us."

"You stalked me?" Sam asked with a soft snort. "Damn. How could I not notice you?"

"I was in holo-form as a human. It was easy to blend in," Optimus said with a sad smile. "That's also how I found information that helped me figure out you could lie to us without us catching it."

"Why didn't you tell me you knew I was lying?" Sam asked, bitterness in his voice.

"It wasn't the right time to point it out. You would have become very defensive."

"Explain to me about the black," Bumblebee said after a few minutes of uncomfortable silence.

"Black?" Jazz asked confused.

"He doesn't own any color of clothes but black ones," Bumblebee replied. "I want to know why."

"Because black doesn't get you noticed. You can hide in it. They can't find you in the dark," Sam said quietly, his eyes closed.

"You use it to hide?" Ratchet asked softly.

"Yes. It works."

"Show me your face," Ironhide demanded suddenly. He was rather annoyed that Sam had kept his face down almost the entire time they'd been speaking. "Come on. Show me."

"I-I'd rather not," Sam mumbled.

"I don't care," Ironhide stated simply and pulled Sam's face up again. "There's nothing to be ashamed of about scars, Sam. I have many myself and learned long ago to be proud of them."

The black mech started to trace the scars peppering the boy's face. Sam tried to pull back, but, to his surprise, Optimus grabbed him and held him. Unable to pull away, tears of embarrassment burned in his eyes as every single scar was traced with a tender hand. Bumblebee leaned forward and stroked Sam's hair gently.

"Don't be so shy around us. We're your friends. Please believe us. Relax and take what we have to give."

Bumblebee's smooth voice was so familiar and warm, and Ironhide's touches so friendly that Sam slowly relaxed in the Autobot leader's grip. Optimus's hands stopped holding him and started petting him, trailing lightly down the bandages. Jazz smiled and joined Ironhide, following Sam's many scars with a finger, while Ratchet joined Optimus with the petting. Sam lost track of how long he'd been sitting there in the peace and safety of his friends, and the next thing he knew, he was waking up lying on Bumblebee's chest. He sat up and looked around in confusion. Rain was softly beating against the windows, it's sounds soothing and peaceful. When he moved, a dull ache spread across his upper body, causing him to look down. The white bandages were in sharp contrast to his black jeans, bringing back the memories of what happened the day before. There was a soft chuckle, and Sam looked up to see his guardian staring at him.

"Have a nice rest, Sam?" he asked warmly.

"Yeah," Sam mumbled, suddenly very uncomfortable.

"Oh, Jazz said this might happen," Bumblebee sighed as he sat up, holding Sam in his hands to keep the boy from falling.

"What?" Sam asked, his dark eyes glancing up at the yellow mech through his hair.

"He said that you'd be unsure of how to act around us and try to retreat back into yourself. But you know what? I'm not going to let you," Bumblebee said simply. "Talk to me."

"About what?"

"Anything. The stars, nature, your feelings. Whatever you want. Just don't hide from me again. Please."

Sam stared blankly at his guardian, unable to think of a topic of conversation. "Err, I..."

"How about I ask you a question?" When Sam nodded, Bumblebee looked thoughtful. "How do you feel about rain?"

"Rain? Umm, I like it."

"Why?"

"Because I do."

"That's not a good enough answer."

"Well...its cool and pleasing to the touch. Its sound make me forget what I've been through. The smell of rain is so clean and sharp. The way it looks pouring down out of the sky is so...peaceful. It tastes good, too."

Sam stopped talking when he realized what he was saying. He must sound so stupid to his guardian. Bumblebee had a warm smile on his face as he stared down at his charge. Sam glanced away from Bumblebee and was surprised to see the others had been listening as well. Embarrassment turned his cheeks red, and he ducked his head.

"Well, I'd say that's reason enough to like rain," Bumblebee said fondly. "Any others?"

Sam shook his head. "No."

"Yo man! Why you actin' like that?" Jazz asked as he and the others approached.

"I sounded so stupid," Sam muttered.

"Stupid? That was not stupid," Ratchet interjected.

"Yes it was!" Sam snapped.

"You think it's stupid because it's how you really feel," Optimus replied with a knowing look in his optics.

"No! It just sounded stupid."

"Ironhide, you've seen a star explode. How do you feel about it?" Optimus asked.

Ironhide got a dreamy look on his face. "It's so powerful, yet more beautiful than anything I've ever seen. A sweep of colors from all across the spectrum that ripple out into the vastness of space, the glitter of golden space dust and ignited gases rushing ahead of it. The wave can be seen for light years all around." Ironhide suddenly stopped and looked embarrassed. "Damn that sounded dumb!"

"No it didn't," Sam said with a frown. "It was beautiful."

"Oh really?" Optimus replied. "You spoke of rain in the same way. Make up your mind, Samuel. Is it stupid or not?"

Sam looked down at his hands and thought for a moment. "I-I guess it's not stupid," he said finally.

"Everybody feels different 'bout different things. It's a sign of close friendship that you can truly talk 'bout how you feel. Don't feel embarrassed 'round us," Jazz said easily.

"Can-can I ask you guys a question?" Sam asked hesitantly.

"Of course Sam," Optimus said with a smile.

"Shoot," Ironhide chuckled.

"How do you guys feel about what my father...did to me?"

Their faces darkened and Ironhide growled, "It was wrong, Sam. There's no other way to put it."

"Yeah, man. If we'd have known..." Jazz said in a low voice.

"Let's not talk of such dark things now," Ratchet interjected. "What he did was wrong, and we won't let him touch you again. We all agree on that, so let's drop it. Please Sam. Pick another question. Any question that doesn't pertain to such vile topics."

Sam looked thoughtful then smiled. "How do you feel about rain?"


	5. Maybe One Day

Okay. Last chapter for this story. And if y'all want a sequel, you'll need to tell me what you want in it. *smiles* Enjoy.

* * *

Sam sat in the nurse's office staring blankly at his blood-stained hands. It was funny, really, that it had happened on the last day of the school year. He'd known that it would happen eventually, but he didn't think he would actually_ win_. Trent lay on the bed in the corner, blood and bruises covering his nearly unconscious body. Sam felt a smile curl his lips when he caught Trent glaring at him.

Trent had come up to him earlier and started doing what he always did, among those things was calling Sam a variety of creative names. Sam was fine with it, ignoring the jock like he always did, until Trent shot out a scathing comment regarding Bumblebee; the yellow mech had picked Sam up with his human holo-form out a few times.

"So that damned freak you hang out with. You two are fucking?" Trent asked with a snicker. Sam ignored that remark with ease, as Trent used it often, but the next one made anger flare hot inside him. "No wait! Let me guess, weeper, you had a tiff with your boyfriend? Or maybe he broke up with you? Doesn't surprise me. Not even fagots want you!"

Sam spun around and, without thinking about it, landed a punch across Trent's jaw as he shouted "Bee's not a fagot!" It felt good to finally do something to that creep. Trent swung back, and the fight that followed lasted an hour and a half. It took four teachers to pry Sam off of Trent. The jock was lying on the ground bleeding heavily. They'd been dragged to the nurse's, and said nurse was furious when Sam refused medical treatment; Sam didn't need this strange woman looking at him when Ratchet would eagerly fix him back at the base. The principal walked in, looking down at Sam tiredly.

"Look, I know I should punish you for this, but it's the last day of school. I'm just going to kick you off school premises. You're not coming back for a year anyways."

Sam nodded, stood without a word, and headed for his locker for the last time. He grabbed his backpack and ducked into the bathroom to touch up his make-up before quickly leaving the school. He got his phone out to call Bumblebee, but thought about it for a moment before putting it away. He was going to get lectured about fighting by Optimus, and he'd rather wait a while to get it. As Sam walked to the park, he noticed just how sore he was from the fight.

"Ratchet's going to have a cow," Sam muttered as he climbed up into his favorite tree.

After he settled into his spot, he closed his eyes to relax. Whether it was the warm day, the cool breeze, or the earlier fight, Sam wasn't sure, but soon he fell asleep. He became aware of somebody poking him, and he opened his eyes to see Bumblebee's holo-form staring at him intently, looking worried, amused, and disapproving.

"Bee? What are you doing here?" Sam asked. He attempted to stretch, but stopped with a groan as he body let him know that it hurt.

"I stopped by the school to pick you up for lunch. What do you think I hear when I ask around for you?" Bumblebee arched an eyebrow and waited.

Sam grimaced and felt guilty that he hadn't called his guardian. "You heard about me fighting Trent," Sam said quietly.

Bumblebee's expression softened when Sam didn't pretend that he didn't know what he was talking about. The boy truly was opening up to them, even if he was shy about it. That wasn't to say that Sam didn't lie to them anymore, but he didn't lie as often. Besides that, the Autobots were also learning to detect them. Bumblebee sighed after a moment.

"Let's get you to Ratchet," he said gently.

Sam nodded and climbed down slowly, every movement making the soreness flare up. Bumblebee easily lifted him down the last couple feet, and they'd started walking back to the 'car' when Sam saw something that stopped him in his tracks. His father and mother were standing several yards away, staring at him. Fear erupted inside Sam and, before he could stop it, a whimper left his lips. Bumblebee stopped and turned to look at him.

"Is something the matter, Sam?" he asked then saw who Sam was looking at. He growled, a low, metallic grinding noise in his throat, causing both of Sam's parents to flinch back. "Come on Sam. We're going home."

Sam followed Bumblebee quickly, all the confidence that the Autobots had built up over the weeks he'd been away from his parents disappearing in that moment. The boy collapsed weakly into the passenger seat of his guardian's alt-form. Bumblebee left him alone, thinking his boy just needed time to think. Actually, Sam was staring out the window, crying silently and wishing Bumblebee would hold him, but he was too shy to ask for comfort. He stepped out of the Camaro when the yellow mech stopped, waiting patiently for his guardian to transform. Bumblebee noticed how his charge kept his head down and grew worried.

"Sam, look at me," he commanded gently, kneeling down and picking the boy up.

Sam hesitated for a moment before lifting his face to the yellow mech's worried gaze. Bumblebee trilled in surprise and distress at the sight of the tear- and make-up stained face.

"Oh Sam! Why didn't you say anything?"

"I didn't want to bother you," Sam mumbled, lowering his head again.

"You should know better than that by now," his guardian admonished gently, lightly stroking Sam's back as he started walking to the base.

The walk was as quick as always and soon the yellow Cybertronian strode into the base. The warm afternoon sunshine lit up the room. Sam reached up to wipe away the make-up, but he wasn't fast enough. Jazz was beside Bumblebee in an instant.

"Hey little man. Wha's wrong?" he asked, tracing the boy's cheek tenderly.

"He saw his parents," Bumblebee said, his voice soft and full of cold fury.

"Frag them!" Ironhide exclaimed hotly, "Don't you think about them! You don't need them."

"Ironhide's right," Optimus replied, warmth and comfort flowing over Sam with the deep voice. "Don't worry about them anymore."

Sam hesitated for a moment before reaching a hand out to the Autobot leader. Optimus looked surprised, but smiled and gently took the boy into his hands. Sam sniffled and nuzzled the blue and red chest, eagerly soaking up the comfort offered to him. He relaxed into the mech and was almost asleep again when Bumblebee poked him. Sam opened his eyes in irritation.

"What?"

"Don't you have something to tell them?" Bumblebee asked pointedly.

"Will you?" Sam asked, suddenly ashamed of getting into that fight.

"No Sam, I won't," Bumblebee replied with a shake of his head.

"What happened?" Ratchet asked absentmindedly.

"I-I kinda got into a fight with Trent."

Optimus suddenly looked stern. "Oh? And what prompted this fight?"

"He...said something bad about Bee. So I hit him."

Bumblebee looked surprised. "You...got into a fight because he said something bad about me?"

"Yeah. Why?"

"And you've never fought him over any of the things he's said about you?"

"Nah. I'm used to his snide remarks about me. But I won't listen to somebody insult you."

Bumblebee's smile was warm and loving. "Oh Sam. You don't have to get into trouble for me."

"Well...the principal didn't punish me, just kicked me off school grounds, but..." Sam looked nervously at Optimus.

The red and blue mech had taken him in with a warm smile, and he'd become a father figure to Sam. That meant he dished out punishment, just like if Sam were an Autobot. Oh it was never unfair or physically painful, but it wasn't enjoyable. Optimus frowned at the almost-fearful look the boy gave him.

"Are you afraid of me?" he asked softly.

"What? No!" Sam said, looking genuinely surprised. "I...just don't like getting in trouble."

"Nobody does Sam. It's just no fun," Jazz said with a chuckle. Ratchet pushed past the silver mech to stand in front of Sam.

"And did you sustain any injuries?" the medic asked, a note of eagerness in his voice.

Sam looked up at him, incredulity on his face. "I forget that you've never seen Trent."

"What?" Ratchet asked, confused at the boy's words.

"Translation: yes, Sam's hurt," Bumblebee said dryly. "Trent's has a strong build for a human, and he's got a powerful punch."

The look on Ratchet's face was a mix of happiness and disapproval. Sam snickered suddenly, surprising everybody.

"Is there something you find funny?" Ironhide asked, bemused.

"Yeah. Ratchet's looks like his torn between saying 'Oh goody! I get to fix him!' and one of his 'you're a moron because you got into a fight' lectures," Sam chuckled.

There was a ripple of laughter from the Autobots, and Ratchet tried to look offended, but the smile ruined the effect. He gently took Sam from Optimus and carried him into the med-bay, setting the boy down on the berth. Bumblebee followed without invitation, bringing a wet towel with him. His holo-form appeared, this time a miniature version of his Autobot self, wiping away the make-up that streaked Sam's face. The yellow mech was very thorough, getting every last bit. He brought the towel away and smiled when he saw his boy's scarred face. Sam tried to look away, still uncomfortable with them seeing the face that he'd kept hidden for so long. Ironhide appeared behind him and tilted his face up, arching an optic ridge.

"Don't even think about it," the black mech said, his voice gentle. Ironhide had been helping him to not be so shy about his scars. The weapons specialist was surprisingly good at it.

Sam shifted and looked around at the Autobots. He'd only had Ratchet and Bumblebee see him naked before, and it looked like the medic was going to allow them all to stay. Sam's guardian noticed his expression and sighed.

"Are you still so shy around us?"

"I-I just...the scars," Sam muttered.

"Sam," Ironhide said gently, leaving no room to complain.

Sam nodded and slipped out of his clothes without further argument. The boy had expected comments from the Autobots, but to his surprise, he received none. As Ratchet began to look over his body, Sam knew he could trust them, but it would take a while. Perhaps a long while, but he would open to them eventually.


	6. Sequel!

Hey peoples. I finally wrote a sequel to this story. It's called Moving On. I'm not sure where this story is going, but I welcome you to make suggestions, whether by review or PM. I sincerely hope you enjoy the sequel. :)


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